Where I belong
by haleigh.l
Summary: Just fluffy, smutty babe short.


_This is just a short, smutty, fluffy, overly sappy short that was stuck in my head. Blame Cindy – she keeps insisting on these happy endings. I'll get the next chapter of Cutting Corners up soon, I promise ;)_

_Rating for smut_

_I don't own them, make no profit, etc._

… 

He slipped a metal prong into the deadbolt on her door. Breathing a quick sigh of relief when the tumblers clicked on the first try, he used a different tool to unhook the chain. The apartment was cool and silent when he walked inside.

He didn't spare a glance around, but moved silently toward the bedroom. Stephanie was sprawled on the bed in an oversized t-shirt, spread eagle, hair flying in every direction. Only then, after months of limbo, did he finally feel everything in his life shift back into place. It was a heady feeling, knowing the world was once again stable under his feet.

Once again, he didn't spare a glance at anything in room, except her face. He sat down on the edge of her mattress and leaned over until his forehead was resting against hers. He raked his fingers through her wild curls. "Babe," he whispered.

It had been a year, almost to the day, since he had walked out of this apartment. He hadn't been expected to make it home, and on several occasions, didn't think that he would. He had spent the entire night making love to her before walking out of her life, and that memory alone had kept him alive. They hadn't made any commitments, any promises, and he had tried not to think that maybe it hadn't mean to her what it had meant to him.

But her she was, alone. He ran his hands through her hair again. She looked different than when he had left, but he couldn't pinpoint the change in the soft moonlight.

Her eyes started to open slowly, but then she gasped and her eyes filled with tears as recognition hit her. She reached up and framed his face with her hands. "Ranger," she breathed. "You're here. Oh god, tell me you're really here."

"I'm right here, babe."

She tugged on his shoulders, pulling him off balance until he landed on top of her. He untangled his legs and moved so that he was covering her body with his own. She ran her hands over his head and his back and every part of him she could reach.

"Make love to me," she whispered. "Please. I have to know you're really here. I need to feel you."

He captured her mouth with his own, needed just as badly to feel her skin and her breath and her love for him. He reached down and grabbed the strip of fabric on her hip and yanked, ripping her panties off with one motion. He got his pants unzipped but didn't bother with any other clothes before he was sliding into her welcoming body.

She gasped and arched her back as he moved as deep as he could go. She breathed his name as the first tear slipped out of her eyes. He slowed his pace and let her body absorb his weight. He ran his hands over her hair and her face. "I'm right here," he whispered. "I'm not going anywhere. Ever again."

"I tried to be strong," she said on a gasp. "I tried so hard, but I didn't think you were coming back—"

"I'm here now, babe."

She put her hands on his back and angled her hips, drawing him farther into her body. He moved slowly, savoring the feel of her, and captured her lips again. She moaned and arched her back, trying to get closer to him.

When he could feel how close she was, he sped up, groaning his own release as he felt her clench around him. He turned them so they were lying on their sides and brushed away the remnants of her tears.

He pushed her hair out of her face while she caught her breath, and kissed her forehead, her cheek, her lips. "God I've missed you," he said.

"They said you weren't coming back."

"I know. But I'm here."

She stared up at him, her eyes serious. "Did you mean it?"

"Yeah babe. I belong where you are. I'm never leaving again."

Her eyes filled with tears again and she leaned up to kiss him. But a squalling noise somewhere in the apartment made her pull back and scramble out of bed.

"Steph?" he said as icy fear started to seep through his body. But she had already rushed out the room. He sat up, suddenly dizzy at the possibilities in front of him. Were she and Morelli back together? Had she had the cop's baby? Had he made it all the way back to her only to have to walk away again?

He slowly rose to his feet and zipped his cargos back up. Even if she and Morelli weren't together – if they had a baby – he couldn't break up a family. He would be forced to walk away and what would he do then?

He found her in the dining room, holding a little scrap of a thing up to her shoulder and rubbing its back, whispering in soothing tones. She turned to him, her face lit up in a brilliant smile, and it finally hit him what looked so different about her: it was the sheer joy of motherhood written all over her face. It was the changes in her body that made her look softer, more settled.

He took a step backward and tried to ignore the pain searing through his chest. She and the cop had had a baby, and she was happy. He hadn't even known that she wanted a baby.

She held the little bundle out to him. He shook his head and took another step backward. His hands were actually shaking. He wouldn't be able to stand looking down at this child and being forced to see Steph's features mixed with Morelli's.

"Ranger," Steph said softly, holding the bundle out again. "Meet your son."

He froze and stared at her. "What?"

She walked toward him and pushed the bundle into his chest, forcing him to reach up and hold the baby or risk dropping it. "Your son," she said again.

His heart was pounding and he could feel sweat starting to drip down the back of his t-shirt. This wasn't Morelli's baby? She wasn't happy with the cop? It was almost too much to hope for, but with a shaking hand, he moved the corner of the blue blanket covering the little thing's face and instead of staring at Morelli's features, he found himself staring at his own. At this perfect mix of Steph's eyes nose and his coloring and mouth and ears.

He turned and sat down on the couch, resting the baby on his knees, and unwrapped the blanket the rest of the way to find ten toes and ten fingers and a chubby little belly and a wisp of black hair.

He stared up at Steph who was watching him. "We have a son?"

She sat down beside him on the couch and tugged her t-shirt over her knees in a nervous gesture. "I know you didn't want more kids, but when they said that you were—when I thought you weren't coming back, knowing that I had something left of you was the only thing that kept me going."

He nodded, not sure how to respond, and stared back at the baby. "What's his name?" he finally said.

"Ricardo Carlos," she said. "Your mom told me it was a family name."

He looked at her quickly. "You spoke to my mother?"

A flush stained her cheeks but she nodded. "Tank took me to meet her. I couldn't stand the thought of him not knowing a whole side of his family."

He nodded. "Good." He lifted the baby up to eye level and Ricky immediately raised one tiny fist and shoved his finger into Ranger's nose. Ranger chuckled and moved the baby's hand away, but then Ricky managed to get his whole fist in Ranger's mouth.

Ranger gently scraped his teeth across one of the Ricky's fingers, making the baby squeal in delight.

As he stared at the laughing baby, he realized that all that stability he thought he had found when he made it back to her had dissolved under his feet, but maybe it had been replaced by something better.

"I'm going to have to amend my earlier statement."

The smile on her face collapsed, but she nodded. "I figured as much. You never wanted a baby or a commitment and I know—"

"Steph," he said, cutting her off. He slid an arm around her shoulders so that he could hold both of them. "I said that I belong with you. What I should have said is that all three of us belong together. We're family now, and there's no going back."

…

_I'm usually not a fan of Steph and Ranger with a baby, but I couldn't get this out of my head. Sorry for the overwhelming sappiness :)_


End file.
